


Toss a Coin

by EnricoDandolo



Category: Elder Scrolls
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Completionism, F/F, Parody, Time Travel, munchkin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnricoDandolo/pseuds/EnricoDandolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is a terrible idea, even for you," Serana told her lover. "Lol whatever," replied the Dragonborn, unfurling the first Scroll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toss a Coin

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick ficlet. I'm about to reach as near to 100% completion of Skyrim as is possible on my current playthrough (discounting the Dark Brotherhood, repeatable radiant quests and mutually exclusive questlines) thanks to a terrible, terrible mod named SkyComplete that has destroyed my life and wanted to write something about it.
> 
> This is not to be taken seriously. I'd appreciate it though if someone who's better-versed in the Dragon Language than myself could say if Paarthurnax's two lines are internally coherent, if not comprehensible.

“Sovngarde … at last …”

With a grunt, the Dragonborn pulled on her blade, which had lodged itself deep in between the plates of her challenger’s ebony armour. It wouldn’t budge. She frowned, shared a look with her companion. Again, she tried.

“Think it’d go easier if he pulled against it?,” Serana suggested, casually lounging on an exposed rock slab as if it were a jarl’s throne.

“We’re _not_ raising him. That’s just rude.”

“Hey, he’d be useful. Just look at him! Tall … good-looking … nice fashion sense …”

“He died in a single hit. Come on, give me a hand here.”

Her lover remained where she was and produced a small potion bottle from her pack. “Most things do, these days. Against you, anyway.”

The Dragonborn interrupted the process of trying to wiggle her sword out of the slain warrior’s armour, glanced at her companion, and giggled. “I know, right? Alchemy / Enchanting / Smithing’s totally OP! And who’d have thought that good ol’ Arngeir could take that many sword hits without noticing?”

“Certainly not him, I should think. Still don’t know how one can meditate _that_ deeply. Of course, for some reason he could still Shout you off the mountain when he finally noticed that you had _punctured his lungs_ two dozen times.”

“Ha! I totally got rekt there.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what that word means. Are you quite done?”

“It’s go faster if you helped me.”

The vampire sighed. “Blood of my ancestors, just go ask General Tullius for a new one. He seems to have a secret stash of Daedric weapons somewhere, the way he’s been handing them out to you.”

“Bah, that’s just the levelled lists going crazy on my overlevelled arse.”

Puzzled, Serana paused, the blood potion halfway to her lips. “I’m … not sure I’d call it _level_ ,” she said. “It’s quite fetching, really. And I’m not sure how that relates to Daedric weaponry. What’s a levelled list?”

“Ah, screw this,” the Dragonborn scoffed by way of a reply. Or, as the case might have been, in a manner so completely unrelated that it went back around the other way and became relevant again. “Let him have it, it was getting old anyway. I’m gonna make myself a new sword. What d’ya think, dragonbone? Stalhrim? Oh, I know: something fancy from the Nexus? I’d like it to light aflame when I draw it.”

Serana tilted her head, smiling patiently. Half the time, she had no idea what her Dragonborn was saying. The rest of the time, what she was saying was mind-bogglingly inane. But she had to hand it to her, she was always full of enthusiasm. “You’ve never forged anything more complicated than iron daggers in your life,” she reminded her lover. “Though I admit, you’ve got those down pat.”

“I made a hide helmet once,” the Dragonborn replied, pouting slightly. “Plus I gave a lot of money to Eorlund Grey-Mane.”

“I’ve told you before – paying for lessons doesn’t do anything if you don’t stay around to watch. When was the last time you’ve even been near a forge?”

“Never mind that. Now, I’ve still got dead ebony guy’s sword, so what can we do with that … Lemme just quickly check my journal …” The Dragonborn’s eyes went blank, her lips moved silently. They’d been together long enough now for Serana to have gotten used to such behaviour – apparently, it was simply how the Dragonborn memorised things.

Herself, the vampire preferred more old-fashioned methods. Rummaging in her pack for a slim notebook, she began leafing through the pages. “Uh, Aela asked us to see to a wild animal invading someone’s home in Shor’s Stone,” she suggested. “How about that?”

The Dragonborn’s eyes focused again. “Animal Extermination? Boring. Done that, like, a dozen times.”

“Well, someone has to do it, and we’re sort of in the area.”

“Eh, I’ll do it later.”

“There might not _be_ a later, depending on what sort of animal it is …”

“Don’t be silly. Nothing will happen until the moment I arrive to take care of it. You’ve got anything else?”

Serana sighed. “Very well, you big baby. Let me see … ah, how about this? We’ve got a bounty on a …”

“ _Boooring._ It’s not like there are any caves, forts, camps, towers, ruins, tombs, lairs, camps, mines, strongholds or monuments I’ve not been to since coming to Skyrim. Oblivion take it, the last three dragons we’ve killed were all named Laklaklak. That means nine, nine, nine. They’ve not only run out of names, they’ve run out of numbers! Come on, give me a _real_ quest. Something interesting. Something with epic loot!”

“Epic loot, huh? You’re already richer than the gods themselves.”

“I’m giving you a pass on this one since you’re new to the imperial coinage. One can never have too many shiny clinging Septims weighing down your pockets, my love.”

“Which reminds me: how is it that all the money you ever find comes in gold Septims struck with the image of Tiber Septim, even if it’s in some ancient Nord crypt or Dwarven ruin that’s even older than me? And for that matter, how on Nirn has inflation in this country gotten so bad that we had to pay twenty gold drakes for dinner yesterday? In my time, we used to have copper and silver coins, too, you know. Well, our cattle had, anyway.”

“I blame the invisible hand of the currency exchange goblins. Either that, or Talos used the Voice to make his empire’s economy _shinier_ , while also thoughtfully providing convenient exchange rates for adventurers. Anyway, missing the point. I need a quest! A quest, for Kyne’s sake!”

Serana frowned. “Well, I’ve given you two. Other than that, there’s a bunch more bounties, a contract from the Brotherhood, a few jobs from the College … oh, and you’re still missing a few Stones of Barenziah to finish her crown.”

There was a lengthy pause as the Dragonborn calculated the time that was likely to take against the payoff. “Yeah,” she finally said. “Not going to happen. Come on, there must be _something_ here in Skyrim (or Solstheim) I haven’t done yet. I don’t want to end up like the Nerevarine.”

“Who’s that and what happened to them?”

“Some dude from Morrowind who did … I forgot what he did, but he eventually got bored of the place and went off to Akavir and hasn’t been heard from since.” The Dragonborn paused to consider for a moment, then a glassy smile appeared on her face. “Though come to think of it, they say Akavir has lesbian snake vampires. I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

Serana gave a slight cough. “I still have my father’s sword, you know. I’m keeping it sharp.”

“Right, right.” The Dragonborn gave the ebony-clad body to her feet a small kick. Already, a thin layer of frost covered the black armour plates. “What do you think, mate? Think there’s something left to do in Skyrim (or Solstheim)?”

Finishing her blood potion, Serana got up from her rock and stepped to her lover’s side. “And you’re absolutely sure you don’t want me to raise him? He’d make a great revenant.”

“You think he’s got a quest for me?”

“Well, he did say that he’d done all there was to be done. Sounds like you and he are in the same boat.”

“Did he? I wasn’t paying attention.”

Serana snorted. “Do you ever … how on Nirn did you ever concentrate long enough to woo me?”

“Hey, I can concentrate when I want to. And as it happens, dead ebony guy here doesn’t have a cleavage window showing off his boobs.”

Somewhat instinctively, Serana crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll have you know that was all the rage back in the Merethic Era. Anyway, I’m pretty sure you’ve done most of the really world-shaking things. Let’s see, you’ve killed Alduin (then threw a tantrum at being unable to loot his corpse), Miraak, you’ve helped the Dawnguard defeat my father, reunited Skyrim under the Empire, then for some reason killed the Emperor for the Dark Brotherhood; you’ve become master of the Thieves Guild, Archmage of Winterhold, Harbinger of the Companions; you’ve built three houses you hardly ever use, adopted two children whom you’ve proceeded to entirely neglect, you’re a thane in every hold of Skyrim, helped out everyone and their mother by retrieving their ‘lost’ family heirlooms … yeah, it does seem like you’re done. Congrats, you’re a hero. How about the two of us take the rest of your brief little mortal life off for ourselves? We could visit Lydia and the children.”

“Bah, all that bitch does is sit on the top floor of Breezehome all day eating bread. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have time, you can always turn me into a vampire later on. I just want to avoid the fire resistance debuff for as long as possible. I want a quest! All my dragon souls for a quest!”

Serana rolled her eyes and linked arms with the Dragonborn. “Well, you’re out of luck. Nothing ‘important’ left to do in Skyrim (or Solstheim). Come on, let’s get home before the sun rises.”

“Well, maybe something out of Skyrim then? Oh, I’ve got an idea! Let’s go get the Elder Scrolls!”

 

A brief visit to the Arcanaeum and Fort Dawnguard later, they were at the Throat of the World, Paarthurnax watching them warily. “This is a terrible idea, even for you,” Serana told her lover, shivering despite her vampiric blood. Oddly enough, the Dragonborn did not seem to mind the cold, despite the … distracting ‘armour’ she had put on before ascending to High Hrothgar.

Paarthurnax nodded his agreement. “Do not _kren_ the _dovah_ of _tiid_ , Dovahkiin. It is not _onik_ to toy with _fus_ beyond the ken of _joore_.”

“Uh, yeah. What he said.”

“Lol whatever,” said the Dragonborn, unfurling the first Scroll.

_“I told you this was a bad idea!,” shouted Serana, frantically holding on to the Dragonborn’s hand. “But you wouldn’t listen, you never listen to me!”_

_“Come on, don’t be a wussy! It’s just Molag Bal trying to bring all of Tamriel under his sticky little thumb, how hard can it be?”_

_“It’s bloody Molag Bal!”_

_“This is better than last time, at least. Get the staff, defeat the usurper, be showered with everlasting praise.”_

_“I don’t know. Everything seems really weird to me. Are Khajiit supposed to look like humans? And why are the Orcs blue and aggro everything they see? And where the hell did my skills go?”_

_“Well I don’t know. It just seems like there’s no obvious good sides in this conflict. Maybe if we had time to decide, we could figure out the least bad option to give the totem to, but everyone is so impatient here …”_

_“Eh. Let me just quickly check UESP which route gives the best rewards … Huh. Mannimarco it is.”_

_“This place is AWESOME! Look, I can fly! And kill a bunch of gods! Hey, that house is made of mushroom!”_

_“Maybe you should cut down on the mushroom, you’ve been trying to hit that mudcrab for hours now without hitting. Besides, we should really go talk to that Cosades guy.”_

_“Ha-ha, as if!”_

_“I’m getting a massive sense of déjà vu here. Mehrunes Dagon is not the most original guy, is he? It’s basically just the Planemeld over and … where did you go?”_

_“Standing right next to you. 100 per cent Chamaeleon for the win! Come on, let’s throw some Bosmer kid off a cliff.”_

Serana blinked. “That felt weird. I could have sworn Time just went the wrong way for a moment.”

Shaking his head, Paarthurnax sighed. “ _Zu’u_ warned you, _boziik joore._ Using the _Kel,_ you _krehaan_ and _krenaan_ the _dovah do tiidi_ back … You are lucky you and your _mir-peyt_ still live, Dovahkiin.” With a disgusted snort, the dragon flapped his wings and took to the air.

“Whatever. I’m bored again.”

“Wait, what just happened?”

The Dragonborn ignored her. “Well, seems like there’s just two things left to do. Either go to Akavir for the lesbian vampire snakes, or, I dunno, dig up Numidium.”

“You mean the golem Uncle Kagrenac was working on? Did he ever actually finish it?”

“ _Uncle_ Kagrenac?”

“Father kept interesting company, back in the day. Anyway, what on Nirn could you need a giant reality-ignoring golem for?”

Serana knew that had been the wrong question the moment she asked. A huge grin appeared on the Dragonborn’s face. “I’ve got some ideas. We could carve our faces into the moons, wouldn’t that be cool? You can have Masser if you like. Oh! Or, or, maybe, we carve a _massive dick_ into Masser. Geddit? Geddit? _Masser?_ ”

The vampire sighed. Whatever she had done to deserve falling in love with this woman, she wished she’d have thought twice about it. “Yes, I get it. Very funny. Anyway, I’m sure as Oblivion not going to let you go off looking for … lesbian vampire snakes. I’m all the bloodsucker you need.”

“Right, right, of course.”

“Good. How about we do something productive instead? Like … I don’t know. We could do our part in reuniting the Empire, maybe? Stem back the Thalmor, save Mundus from destruction?”

Out of all possible answers to this proposal, Serana had not been expecting the one she got: a violent, wet kiss. “Brilliant! Oh, I love that idea! You and I, empresses of Tamriel, pawning everyone that stands in our way …”

“That’s … not what I meant …”

“I knew there was a reason I killed the Emperor! Come on, let’s go enthral Tullius and Rikke and invade Cyrodiil, right away!”

Serana gave a slight cough, breaking loose from her lover’s embrace. “Uh, _maybe_ the Numidium idea is worth considering after all.”

The Dragonborn hesitated, appearing torn between two tempting options. “They both sound great,” she said, “but which to do first? How to decide, how to decide …”

“Er. Toss a coin?”

“Good idea.” Producing a shiny gold Septim, the Dragonborn announced: “Head says we go for the Ruby Throne, dragon says we go for the lesbian … sorry, for the Numidium.” With a flourish, she tossed the coin up in the air and caught it in her hand. It showed the dragon. “Huh,” the Dragonborn said. “Numidium it is.”

“Great. Let’s go find out where it actually is.”

“Now that you mention it, no one has seen it in centuries.”

“Yes. Hence the research.”

“And it’s probably just going to be an oversized retex of the normal Steam Centurions that clips through every ceiling.”

“Uh, what?”

The Dragonborn glanced at the coin in her hand. Under her breath, she muttered: “ _Fus!_ ” The coin showed head. A grin appeared on her face. “Looks like it’s the empire after all!”

“But you just …”

“Tiber Septim here says we’re to take the empire. Are you accusing Tiber Septim of lying? Thought so. Don’t worry, it’ll be fun! We’ll get to mess up Cyrodiil, kill a bunch of elves, you’ll have free access to the Imperial Prisons for when you’re feeling hungry … oh, and we’ll be on the throne together _ifyouknowwhatImean._ ” The Dragonborn wiggled her eyebrows and offered the vampire her arm.

Serana sighed. “You … make a compelling argument. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you.” They linked arms.


End file.
